


Ya'aburnee

by demonessryu



Series: Relationship Words Not Translatable into English [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Life-Affirming Sex, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonessryu/pseuds/demonessryu
Summary: Some deaths lasted too long.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Relationship Words Not Translatable into English [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991590
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	Ya'aburnee

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you bring your favorite vacation spots to your fics, while I bring the local terrorists (parasitic growth -10000/10 not recommended.) I’m not sure the kind of op the Old Guard does could go undetected down here, but, as with the tradition of action films, this fic assumes police and military are incredibly incompetent. I will also ignore homophobia here and pretend nobody notices or minds Joe and Nicky’s constant heart eyes. They don’t need to deal with that nonsense on top of everything.
> 
> Ya'aburnee (Arabic): "You bury me." It's a declaration of one's hope that they'll die before another person, because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

Joe had always hated explosives. From the moment he first heard of its usage in battles, he’d been wary. Witnessing its effects firsthand had compounded his hatred of it. Experiencing it for the first time had cemented his opinion on its use. It could tear and cut, break and destroy almost anything in its violent path. Even from the distance, one could still be affected – ringing ears, displaced air, shock of invisible impact. Joe could see its efficiency in the art of destruction and why it was quickly adopted into warfare. As a warrior, he understood and as a human being, he hated it. Joe had handled and mastered various weapons throughout centuries, but he left the explosives to Booker as soon as he could relegate that task to him. The task was now his and Nicky’s with Booker gone, but when Joe could avoid using it, he would. He’d rather take the risks of close combat than gambling with the destructive power. This hatred was always at the back of his mind, so deeply ingrained that he often forgot that it was there until a mishap happened and reminded him of why he kept his distance from explosives.

The sweltering sun and impossible humidity of the equator caused rivulets of sweat to run down Joe’s whole body, stinging his eyes and healing injuries. He wiped them with his sleeve impatiently. Joe had been the one who gathered information on the terrorist cell as those who were blind to the fact that they had gone against the faith they claimed to devote themselves to and fight to death for often couldn’t see truth through the superficial exteriors of skin color, language, and clothes. However, it was Nicky who was now leading their group in storming the terrorist headquarter, followed closely by Nile, who was quickly learning their group dynamics and the distinct combat techniques when your body could heal from even death. Andy was behind her. Even without seeing her face, Joe could tell that she was keeping an eye on Nile both to protect her and take notes of things to later teach her in a slightly more peaceful time. At the back of the group was Joe. He was slightly anxious for not being close to Nicky, but with Andy’s new mortality, someone had to have her back, so Joe put his personal feelings aside and very carefully avoided examining the possibility of Nicky meeting the same mortal fate as Andy in a bad time.

They paused outside a building where the remaining terrorists were hiding. Joe took the opportunity to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. He had fought enough battles to know how much blood and pain agitation could cost. His eyes met Nicky’s as they both sought and found peace and encouragement in each other. This wasn’t the time or place for the verbal and physical reassurance that both of them wanted, but they knew each other so well that the faintest crinkles in the corners of their eyes meant as much as any speech or touch. Profound undying affection reinvigorated Joe’s body and spirit and he promised himself he would tell Nicky all about it later today – something to look forward to and motivate him to fight to the best of his ability. The private moment lasted only a couple of short seconds, then they looked away from each other to focus on the task at hand. Nicky made quick and efficient decisions, signing silently that he would go in first and Andy was to come in last just in case. Andy nodded without protest – entering a closed space in the enemy’s territory was a very risky move that she could no longer make. There was one tense moment where they all collectively held their breaths, then Nicky charged forward.

The blast was deafening, shuddering the earth and shaking the building. Joe, Nile, and Andy were knocked off their feet, debris and shrapnel raining down on them, but quickly got up. Nile sustained the most injuries, fresh blood covering her face and arms where flesh was closing back up. Andy was fortunately fine, although visibly shaken. Joe coughed out dust from his lungs, frowning at the pain of minor wounds closing. He impatiently waited for Nicky to indicate that he was alright, but long seconds passed with nothing but smoke and dust obscuring the view of the building. Joe’s heart accelerated painfully in his battered chest. Nile and Andy had gotten back up to their shaky feet and yet there was still no movement, no gunshot, no confirmation of Nicky’s wellbeing. Joe’s stomach twisted sickeningly as cold, cold fear ran through his veins. His ears were still ringing, but he fought his disorientation and ran into the building. Behind him, Andy cursed before she and Nile followed him.

Joe found Nicky almost immediately, sprawled on his back with eyes open but unseeing. The explosives had been too close to him for his tactical gear to do him any good. He was red – too red – and the color spread and spread and spread on the floor around him. Through flying dust, dirt and blood Joe could see where skin and muscles were torn, bones broken, organs punctured, fragile limbs almost severed. Joe sank to his knees beside Nicky, racing heart in his tightening throat. He desperately patted and touched Nicky’s injuries, looking for signs of recovery. He had seen Nicky healed from worse kinds of death, so he tried to convince himself that he would heal from this one, but the loss of Andy’s healing ability had made Joe more scared for Nicky, fearing that this death would be the final one, that this time Nicky would truly be gone. Joe kept touching the bleeding wounds, looking for proof that the miraculous healing that had brought Nicky back to him over and over again hadn’t given up this time, that it wouldn’t stop working midway, that Nicky would come back to him again, that Nicky wouldn’t leave him – not like this, not ever, not when Joe couldn’t bear the thought of living without him.

But, if the wounds were healing, Joe couldn’t see it. Nicky was still torn open. He was still not breathing. He was still not back with Joe. Joe’s hands trembled over Nicky’s too-pale and too-still body. His body felt weak and he wanted nothing more but to stay by Nicky’s side and make sure that he came back to life, but gunshots then filled the building, rudely reminding him that Andy needed him – perhaps more than Nicky did. With a shaking inhalation and one last prayer to the God who had brought him to the love of his life, Joe tore himself away from Nicky’s side. If he fought more carelessly than usual, he couldn’t be blamed. Joe gritted his teeth when bullets burrowed into him as he shielded Andy with his body. He ignored his injuries, giving no time for them to heal, before turning his gun to the enemy – the pain was nothing compared with the lump in his throat and the constriction around his chest with every passing second he couldn’t hear Nicky’s life-giving gasp anyway. One by one, he took down the people who had killed Nicky and when he ran out of bullets, Joe drew out his sword and threw himself into battle, driven into thoughtless violence by suffocating grief and bloodthirsty vengefulness.

Firearms were effective weapons, but nothing could compare with the familiarity of a sword. Centuries had passed since he learnt to use it (centuries since he and Nicolo killed each other over and over and carved themselves into each other’s soul deeper and deeper and deeper until not even time could erode their love for each other. Centuries of love. Centuries of lives. Centuries of deaths. Centuries that still weren’t enough,) but his body still remembered how to use it like it was its extension. He cut, slashed, and stabbed with ease as if he was using his bare hands, satisfying a violent beast inside him that demanded justice for the love harmed and possibly lost. Joe fought and fought until there was no one to fight anymore and he stood in the middle of carnage, covered in blood, sweat, and tears he didn’t remember shedding. He wasn’t good enough to not feel the slightest bit of gratification over having killed people who had killed Nicky. Some of his rage had abated, but his fear persisted and had even grown stronger, not cured by the violence of revenge. Joe tore his mending wounds open again to rush back to Nicky’s side.

“Nicky. Babe, wake up,” he pleaded, holding Nicky’s unresisting hand shakily. There was no response. Nicky was still quiet, still bleeding, still dead. Joe caressed his cold cheek frantically. “Nicolo. _Habibi_ , please,” he begged. And he begged some more, calling new and old names and pleading in languages they had spoken of love and life and life of love in. His eyes darted from injury to injury, looking for evidence that Nicky was coming back to him. But, there was so much blood – too much blood – that Joe could barely see anything. “Love, come back to me,” he whispered, pressing his wet face to Nicky’s temple. “Don’t leave me.”

Distantly, Joe heard Nile and Andy declare the building all clear. Andy was soon beside him, examining Nicky’s injuries while murmuring about why they healed so slowly sometimes. Joe didn’t reply, his voice unable to form anything other than Nicky’s names and pleas for him to come back, to live again, to not let Joe live dreadfully long lives without him. Slow drips of Nicky’s blood and Joe’s tears marked the passing time. Andy and Nile tried to help the healing process along using medical supplies they now carried around, but the blast had damaged more than what medication could reasonably heal. Joe closed his hand over an open wound on Nicky’s neck. It was closing – he could feel it under his trembling palm – but the progress wasn’t fast enough to give him any comfort, the torn flesh and veins and tissues joining together at a slow pace, the blood ceasing to flow sluggishly, life taking its time to return to Nicky. Joe bent his head over Nicky’s silent heart, willing his love to make it beat again. He squeezed Nicky’s hand, begging with throat ravaged by grief for Nicky to live again, professing his love over and over again, denouncing a world without the man he loved in it.

The first weak pulse and the first twitch of muscles were almost missed entirely in the grief and fear overcoming Joe. However, a small grunt fully called Joe’s attention. He quickly lifted his head to see Nicky huffing as his body pieced its final pieces back together. Relief washed over Joe, staggering him more than any strong blast or bloody wound or broken bone could. He was lightheaded as if he was also taking his first breaths along with Nicky and his body threatened to give as if it had also been broken like Nicky’s. Nicky’s eyes fluttered closed weakly, a cruel reminder that beneath the armor of almost-immortality, he was only a vulnerable human. Joe stroked Nicky’s matted hair, drawing his attention to Joe and not to the tremendous pain Joe knew was coursing through his fragile nerves. His breath hitched up in a sob when Nicky weakly squeezed his hand.

“Okay, Nicky?” Andy asked, breathless with relief.

Nicky tried to croak out a reply, but his throat was still injured, so he nodded in affirmative. They couldn’t bring him back to their car fast enough. He healed more on the way, but Joe could tell from the way he closed his eyes and sighed deeply every now and then that some internal damage hadn’t fully mended. He held Nicky close to him and bore most of his weight, all but carrying Nicky so that he wouldn’t have to exert any unnecessary effort. Andy drove them back to their safe house as fast as she could and didn’t slow down even after Nicky confirmed that he was fully healed. Joe was grateful to her for that. His heart was still in his throat, fear in his veins. Leaning against him, Nicky sometimes seemed too quiet and still so that Joe put his thumb over the faint pulse beating under the thin skin on Nicky’s wrist, a poor reassurance that Joe hadn’t lost the only thing worth living for, the only reason centuries of blood and hate were worth surviving. Nicky hummed as if sensing Joe’s anxious thoughts and absently patted his knee, but it wasn’t enough to keep Joe’s mind from racing into a dark place Nicky usually kept bright.

By the time they arrived at the safe house, Nicky was able to walk on his own. Joe didn’t waste any time to discard their weapons and pull Nicky to their room. Andy, used to this and understanding more than she ever shared, said nothing and distracted Nile. Joe barely spared them a glance, his mind entirely focused on Nicky, his body wholly longing for Nicky. Once the door was closed behind him and Nicky, he drew Nicky into a thorough kiss, tasting life that had been taken away from him. His arms wound around Nicky perhaps too tightly, but he couldn’t loosen them, achingly needing to be close to Nicky, to touch him, to keep him near, to not lose him again.

“Yusuf,” Nicky whispered reproachfully, his breath soft and warm against Joe’s lips, his hands gentle on Joe’s waist. He was alive. He was back. But, how long until he was taken from Joe again?

“Shower,” Joe croaked out, pulling him to the adjoining bathroom.

Nicky knew better than to argue when Joe divested them of their tactical gears. Joe’s fingers trembled as he removed the torn vest that had failed to protect Nicky and they trembled still when he washed blood and gore from Nicky’s scar-less body. Nicky leaned back on the shower wall, unresisting to Joe’s desperate hands. The thoughts that Nicky was used to it to know not to fight, that he had been killed often enough to know Joe’s need to ensure that he was all right, that Joe had seen the dreadful sight of his dying body uncountable times, that more than once a long time ago Joe had been the one spilling Nicky’s blood and guts, were suddenly unbearable. Joe rested his forehead on Nicky’s shoulder and let the cooling water washed the remnants of violence off their skins. He brushed Nicky’s now-intact torso with shaky fingers and closed his burning eyes tightly, releasing a shuddering breath that drew a soft sigh of his name from Nicky’s lips.

They were both still damp from the shower when Joe pushed Nicky to the bed and settled between his long legs. Nicky arched his back as Joe ran his hands over his sides and mouthed a fiery wet pattern up his torso. He let out a soft moan when Joe closed his lips over a pink nipple and then a louder moan when Joe began to lap and suck on it to stiffness, his beard tickling the sensitive skin around the bud. Between their bodies, his cock was hardening, so Joe wrapped his hand around it and pump him to full hardness. He let Nicky hitch his hips, thrusting into his tight grip languidly even as Joe could feel minute twitches of his cock. Exhaling loudly, Nicky buried his fingers in Joe’s curls to gently tug him up into a deep kiss. Joe eagerly returned the kiss, plundering the soft sweetness of Nicky’s mouth, seeking the freshness of toothpaste and the lack of coppery blood. Nicky let out a low noise that Joe swallowed greedily as he pressed even closer to him, causing Nicky to buck his hips, the first drops of seed dripping onto his stomach.

Nicky made a noise of disappointment when Joe broke the kiss with a wet sound. “Joe, please,” he pleaded breathily as Joe shuffled down his body.

Joe pushed Nicky’s legs up so that his feet were firmly planted on the bed, exposing the length of his hard cock, his heavy balls, and his tight entrance to Joe’s gaze and touch. Nicky gasped at the first flicker of tongue on the thick head of his erection right over the sensitive slit. The noise turned into keens and whines when Joe hungrily lapped on it and occasionally sucked on the tip to draw forth more noises and the familiar taste. Nicky’s thighs trembled on either side of Joe’s head, calling Joe to caress the soft undersides while making sure that the thighs remained spread for him. Nicky groaned and clutched the sheets as Joe suddenly took him deep into his mouth. Knowing exactly what Nicky liked, Joe traced the thick veins his tongue and thickly lather the soft skin with his saliva. A truly filthy noise was produced when he drew up with a suck until only the weeping head of Nicky’s cock was left in his mouth. He glanced up, made sure Nicky was watching, then slowly sank down again and this time Nicky’s thighs tensed up and he moaned brokenly as he fought not to thrust into Joe’s mouth.

Always a patient lover, Nicky let Joe pleasured him for as long as he wished, only whimpering quietly at the sight of Joe’s head bobbing up and down on his lap and the feeling of Joe’s teasing tongue on the thick veins of his cock. Always a generous lover, Joe used his wealth of intimate knowledge of Nicky, sucking on him slowly, pulling off to lick the throbbing veins, mouthing and nipping what part of him he couldn’t cover with his mouth, scratching his trembling thighs with his dark beard, taking him back into his mouth when Nicky begged breathlessly for mercy. A strong hand was placed atop Joe’s head, not to push him down, but to gently stroked and tugged his hair in a wordless expression of needs. Joe closed his eyes, losing himself in the sound, feel and taste of Nicky until he was almost drowning in them, completely surrounded by Nicky. But, they were not enough – couldn’t be enough – and he was greedy for more. He pulled away one last time to move lower. Nicky’s hips tried to buck when Joe drew one heavy testicle into his mouth. Joe pressed down on his hips until they settled except for involuntary shudders that ran through Nicky’s frame at every pass of Joe’s tongue on the full roundness, his heels digging into the bed as he unconsciously spread his legs wider for Joe. Satisfied that Nicky wouldn’t buck up again, Joe withdrew his hands. He caressed the puckered entrance into Nicky’s body until Nicky moaned loudly and pushed down, inviting the digit into him, wanting Joe inside him.

Reluctantly, Joe pulled away. “Get the lube,” he requested hoarsely.

Joe kissed and mouthed Nicky’s pale thighs as Nicky got him the lube in the bedside drawer. Sometimes Joe liked to leave little marks that never lasted long enough on the fair skin, but this time the thought of even causing minor sting was unbearable to him. Just the faint flush caused by abrasion against his beard made his heart twist. Joe ran his lips and tongue over it until it faded back to paleness, until Nicky was moaning and pushing a small tube into his hand. Joe quickly sat up and coated his fingers. His eyes were transfixed on his longest finger as Nicky’s body gave under his touch, his body easily opening for the careful push of the slick digit. The thighs on either side of Joe trembled the deeper Joe’s finger sank in. Nicky’s cock twitched over his heaving stomach as the digit was fully engulfed in the clutching warmth of his body. Joe felt an answering twitch of his own erection, but ignored it in favor of preparing Nicky. He loosened the tight channel, first with one finger, then two and three, sliding in and out and spreading. Nicky took it with heavy breaths and no complaint, although he did whimper whenever Joe glanced over his swollen prostate to make his hips buck up and his cock blurt out viscous fluid that Joe lapped up and sucked reverently.

Eventually, Joe withdrew his fingers. Nicky whimpered quietly in discomfort as he was left empty and open while Joe covered his cock in lube. He immediately wrapped his arms around Joe when Joe climbed over him. Their lips collided at first, then softly meshing, finding familiar ways to pleasure, explore, love, and plunder. Joe reached down to guide himself as he licked into Nicky’s moaning mouth. He rested the rounded head of his cock over Nicky’s waiting hole, just lightly nudging inside. Sometimes, he liked to tease, delaying until Nicky laughed breathily and asked Joe to fuck him already. This time, though, Joe only waited a moment before pushing in. Nicky’s body yielded around him, stretching to accommodate the familiar girth and length with little resistance. They stopped kissing, moaning into each other’s mouth as Joe slowly and steadily sank into Nicky.

When their hips were flush against each other, it felt like a dream. Joe had to take a moment to adjust to the flutters of slick muscles around him, the eager clutch that wrapped around him like Nicky didn’t want to let go, the minute shudders running across Nicky’s body as he adapted to the penetration. Joe rolled his hips, grinding deep inside Nicky. It earned him a deep sigh as Nicky tilted his head back in ecstasy, his thighs clamping around Joe’s hips. Joe gently gathered Nicky in his arms and kissed the quick beats of his pulse, nuzzled the deep flush reddening his skin, swallowed the soft moans of pleasure and needs. He caressed Nicky’s back when Nicky wrapped his legs around him. As much as he loved the feeling of his cock sliding home into Nicky in one long stroke, this time Joe couldn’t bear to withdraw too far. He made small shallow thrusts that nevertheless strike Nicky’s prostate each time. He smiled when Nicky’s erection twitched between their bodies, its tip leaving sticky trails on their stomachs. Joe grasped it, pumping it slowly as he continued thrusting into the clenching depth of Nicky’s body.

They moved as one in a familiar rhythm of giving and taking. At times, Joe forgot himself and thrust hard into Nicky, drawing a sharp gasp of pleasure, but he quickly slowed down again, even though Nicky’s fingers dug into his shoulders and his legs tightened around his hips. Usually, between the two of them, Joe was the more impatient one, but this time he was desperate to savor every passing second. He buried his face in Nicky’s shoulder, rocking steadily into Nicky despite the persistent urge to pound into him until he was breathless and begging to come. Passion burnt low in Joe’s belly, but release felt less important than being close like this to Nicky, Joe’s cock dragging over the slick inner walls of Nicky’s hole and Nicky’s limbs restless around Joe’s slowly rocking body. Joe smeared the wetness now dripping steadily from Nicky’s cock around the throbbing shaft to ease his strokes. In response, Nicky thrust up into his loose fist, then sank back down onto his thick cock. The legs around Joe clamped around him more tightly, then Nicky gently lifted Joe’s face to look at him.

“Joe, come on,” he begged sweetly, grinding down on Joe to demonstrate what he wanted.

Joe groaned and kissed him, pouring all his love and lingering fear into every sweep of his tongue and every moan he let out into Nicky’s welcoming mouth. He broke the kiss and shook his head stubbornly, shifting his hips to rest himself as deep as possible inside Nicky and drawing a shuddering groan from him. He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to chase pleasure. “No. I don’t want it to end yet. I don’t want to….” He stopped, choked up.

Gently, Nicky cupped his face. Despite the desperation palpable in every inch of his body, his eyes were tranquil and warm, an oasis for Joe’s hungering heart. Joe shut his eyes when Nicky kissed him tenderly. “It’s all right. Don’t hold back.”

“But…”

“We can start again,” Nicky promised, soft lips brushing against Joe’s with every word. “We can.”

There was no resisting Nicky when he looked at Joe with this much love and trust. Biting his lip, Joe picked up his pace, adding both speed and force into every slide into Nicky’s willing body. Nicky’s slackened expression, happy moans, and messy kisses were his rewards. Joe groaned as he pounded into Nicky, forcing his clenching body to stretch and part for the thick intrusion of Joe’s cock. Their bodies met with fleshy smacks, loud in the otherwise silent bedroom. Nicky threw his head back as every thrust jostled him. His cock in Joe’s hand was weeping steadily now and every stroke made him strain up eagerly into Joe’s hand for release. Joe pumped him faster, running thumb over thick veins and the ridge of the flared head until Nicky writhed and bucked into his grasp only to impale himself further only Joe’s cock. Centuries had taught Joe the meaning of the growing franticness of Nicky’s movements, the desperation in the way he chanted Joe’s names while he pushed back onto each thrust. Joe nosed a path up Nicky’s sweaty neck to mouth at a patch of sensitive skin behind his ear. It earned him a shudder, while little nips earned him hoarse groans, and a hint of teeth accompanied by a well-aimed jab onto his swollen prostate finally had him coming heavily onto their abdomens, arching his back beautifully under Joe with a short cry. Joe kept thrusting into his tightening body through his orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until he was shaking, his cock softening. Made unsteady by bliss, Nicky ran his hands down Joe’s sides and back to his bottom, breathily urging Joe to find his pleasure inside him, mark and make him his yet one more time. Only then did Joe let go with a sob. He slammed into Nicky so hard that Nicky gasped, and held his faintly jerking hips there, flush against Nicky’s, as he filled the quivering depth of Nicky’s body with his seed.

Joe collapsed onto Nicky, who barely grunted and gently wrapped his weak arms around him. For a moment, both of them just panted, trying to catch their breaths. Joe tried to lose himself in Nicky’s presence, safe and sound around him, far from violence and hatred and death that constantly loomed over them. Yet, the memory of Nicky’s dead body still lingered cold and cutting in his mind. The fear was still too fresh and too painful. This had happened before and Joe knew the feelings would pass eventually, but the cold fear seized his heart more tightly than ever this time. Andy’s regeneration ability had disappeared with no warning during the worst mission they had had in decades. Who knew when it would happen to Nicky, when his body finally gave in and refused to recover, when death finally took him away from Joe? Joe held Nicky more tightly when Nicky caressed his sweaty hair.

“Promise me it won’t happen again,” Joe demanded. He looked up to look into Nicky’s concerned eyes. Not too long ago they had been unseeing, blank as the soul that lit it up departed. Now, there was affection and warmth that Joe was so familiar with, but Joe was all too aware of its temporary nature. Sooner or later Copley would find them another job and what if this happened again? What if Nicky was hurt again? What if then it was truly the last time? “Promise me you won’t leave me behind,” he begged.

Nicky sighed and stroked his back. “You know I can’t,” Nicky replied.

“Promise me,” Joe insisted insensibly. “I need you with me, habibi. I can’t-I don’t want to live without you.” Joe stopped, blinking away tears as his voice broke under the strain of the fear and agony of losing the reason he withstood every new life despite the increasing unfamiliarity and persistent hostility of the world around him.

Nicky frowned. “Yusuf, please,” he gently admonished in an old language they had spoken that first time they stood before each other unaware of how much an enemy could mean for them.

“I’ll never regret the battles we’ve fought and will fight in the future, but these fights mean nothing without you to share the peace with. I don’t love violence more than I love the calm and happiness afterward, and I don’t love the calm and happiness more than I love sharing them with you. My love, I could live without you, but I don’t want to. I could fight without you by my side, but I won’t find any reason to. I could wade through another millennium without you, but my heart, my mind and my soul won’t survive without you. You’re the reasons my long and many lives are a gift. Without you they’re just a torturous curse. Promise me, Nicolo. Promise you won’t go without me, you won’t leave me. Promise you’ll always come back to me,” Joe begged again in the same tongue he had used when he had first spoken of love to Nicky, when he buried the last shreds of mistrust and hatred and surrendered himself to love to be wholly consumed. He used it again now to offer his whole self to love and hoped that he wouldn’t be refused.

Nicky at first looked at him with wary exasperation, but just as Joe prepared another argument, Nicky sighed and smiled. “ _Inshallah_ ,” he said, cupping Joe’s cheek.

Joe stared at him, then burst out laughing. Beneath him, Nicky chuckled, his little snort made Joe bend down to kiss his nose lightly before rolling off him to lie down beside him. His heart became lighter and lighter as he continued to laugh, Nicky elbowing him playfully in mock indignation. It was their little inside joke, saying phrases that once had set them apart from each other and put them against each other instead of beside each other. It was a reminder of what they had gone through to find and stay with each other, the differences that they put aside to embrace love together. The many eras and civilizations they had lived through hadn’t always been kind to them, but they had outlived each and every one even more in love and devoted to each other. This time – this uncertain time – would not be different. Whatever had happened in the past, they were together now and so they would always be until the destiny that had brought them together separated them – this time permanently. The thought still made Joe’s heart tremble as no torture or violence ever could, but he could finally saw a ray of light in the dark misery that had enveloped him since the damned explosives took Nicky from him. He brought Nicky’s hand to his lips to kiss the knuckles. Sighing in contentment, he dropped their hands between them, their fingers linked together.

“Yes, yes. _Inshallah_ ,” he agreed.

A better person than Joe was, Nicky didn’t ask him to promise him the same. Joe was grateful for it, for he would promise it to Nicky, hating to disappoint him even though this was something beyond his power to control. And he _had_ promised it in moments of love and passion so overwhelming that he had to try to express them with words as well as action. Such promise was impossible to fulfill, as Andy’s circumstance reminded them. The gift they had was only an illusion of permanence. A more convincing illusion than what most people had, perhaps, but an illusion nevertheless. As earnest as Joe had been when he made his promises to Nicky, he knew he could never make sure they would come true. This pained Joe more than it should. Centuries couldn’t lighten the regret of not being able to give Nicky everything he could ever want or dream of. Indeed, centuries had failed to teach Joe to be a pragmatic lover. Joe supposed he could try harder, but he must admit he wasn’t too inclined to do so when Nicky looked at him with such untold fondness whenever Joe found a new way to tell him how completely and utterly Nicky possessed him.

“I know how Booker feels, losing everyone you hold dear. It’s not exactly the same – you’ve always returned to me – but I know the agony of losing someone you love,” Joe admitted.

Nicky turned to him. “Does it mean you’ve forgiven him?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

Joe scoffed, frowning. “For what he has done to allow those bastards to hurt you?” He kissed Nicky’s brows, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips. They kissed languidly, not rushing without pleasure to chase only contentment to savor. When they had had their fill of each other, Nicky turned his back to him and Joe obligingly wrapped his arm around him and shifted close until his chest was pressed against Nicky’s back. The familiar intimate position softened places where Joe’s heart had been hardened. He kissed the nape of Nicky’s neck gently and murmured, “give me a few decades.”

Nicky kept his amusement to himself, but Joe knew he was smiling. “You know, we really should clean up.”

“We do.”

“And I need to see Andy and Nile. Andy was very worried.”

“You do.”

Nicky chuckled and squeezed the arm across his torso. “You have no more than five minutes, Yusuf.”

Still reluctant to be separated from Nicky even by an inch, Joe tightened his arms around him. “As you wish, Nicolo,” he promised. As far as promises went, it wasn’t one of the grandest Joe had ever made for Nicky, but at least this was one he was sure he could fulfill.

**Author's Note:**

> Things that happened when writing this fic: googling how to write Inshallah (God willing) in English. Joe has said “mother of God” in the film so I figured Nicky should say some Arabic phrases. I always think of the phrase as something similar to force majeur in legal contracts. You promise to do whatever is stipulated in the contract to the best of your ability, but if something happens that is beyond your control (act of God) and you can’t carry out the contract, then it’s not your fault. Things spiraled out of control from this little idea and this became a very long smutty fic.
> 
> I can be found on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


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